


Tho' much is taken, much abides

by ketonicoxygen



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall - Fandom
Genre: Apocalypse, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, a literal take on Bond-will-always-come-back-for-Q headcanon, but not the end of the world of human beings kind of apocalypse, happy ending for 00Q, it's not as depressing as it sounds, very hopeful ending for the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8642080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketonicoxygen/pseuds/ketonicoxygen
Summary: Q hates this part. Waiting, and not knowing. That about sums up his relationship with Bond. Well, he will wait this last time.
 
A literal take on Bond-will-always-come-back-for-Q headcanon.





	

Q-branch is disconcertingly quiet.

To be fair, Q-branch is always quiet these days. But Q can never get used to this silence around him. In old days (really it hasn’t been that long but apocalypse does tend to lend one new perspectives), Q-branch had always been lively—keyboard clicking, low-voice discussions, field communications, sometimes explosions—and almost never quiet. It was only ever quiet when an agent was down, or a mission failed and could potentially lead to many causalities, or some other things that were equally _bad_ happened.

But this grim, solemn version of Q-branch is his new reality now, so like it or not, he’s going to have to live with it.

The last time Q-branch was this quiet, Q remembers vividly, was when a certain double-oh was shot down, fell into a river, presumed dead. The very same double-oh who is the reason why Q is still here—probably the only person alive in a ghost city, in a sealed underground bunker—waiting, alone.

About four months ago this pandemic started to spread around the world with alarming speed. The concerning virus wasn't assessed as a huge danger to public health at first—until people started dying, that is. That’s when the panic started to settle in. The virus, once infected, only gives one some mild symptoms at first, but the symptoms progresses rapidly and after a certain point there’s only death awaiting. Now, merely four month later, only one percent of population remain uninfected, almost all of them clustered in the many safe zones set up by what’s left of the governments around the world.

The government started to evacuate people to safe zones more than a month ago. Most of Six employees were evacuated then, leaving only skeleton staff behind. Two week ago the government decided since most of the foreign governments around the world has fallen down, there wasn’t much point in Six still operating, and the full evacuation order came. Q was supposed to go, like everyone else.

Only, there was a small glitch in the plan.

The problem, as many Q’s problems, stemmed from an infuriating, stubborn double-oh agent who Q just happened to be utterly in love with. 

Bond was sent out on a mission almost around the same time when the first evacuation started. It amazed Q how far terrorists were willing to go, taking advantage of the chaos to create even more chaos and terror. Someone had to stop them. That someone happened to be Bond.

There wasn’t enough time for a proper goodbye for them. Bond only come down to Q-branch to fetch the standard gun and radio. Their meeting was intense, to put it mildly. Both of them acutely aware that this could be the time Bond wouldn’t come back, that even if Bond finished the mission, the pandemic, which is more rampant in east Europe than Britain, might finally accomplish what all those assassins that Bond killed didn't manage to do. How could they say goodbye forever when they’d only had so little time together? Q wasn’t ready to let Bond go just yet. He just couldn’t. 

It appeared that Bond also couldn’t let go either. He held on to Q, his grip hard enough to leave bruises, but Q didn't mind. In fact, any reminders that Bond was ever there in his life was welcome. Their foreheads touching, the act intimate and so uncharacteristic of Bond, who’d never cared much for public displayed affection. 

“Please return the equipment in one piece?” It was said in a pleading manner, unlike his usual commanding delivery of this obligatory line. What’s left unsaid was Q’s quiet plead _please come back, I don’t care about the gun or the radio or even the Aston Martin that I took almost a year to rebuild, just bring yourself back in one piece._

Unsaid, but heard anyway. Bond understood Q more than anyone else, even Eve. “I will. Take care.” _I will come back for you, always. ___

__“I’ll be here at Q-branch when you come back.”_ _

__Bond smiled at this. Q tried to commit every detail of the blinding smile to his memory, details like how the skins around Bond’s devastating eyes crinkled just so, how the right corner of his mouth would lift a tad higher than the left one, how he looked into Q’s eyes, unafraid to bare his emotions._ _

__It shall never cease to amaze Q how the smallest declarations of commitment would delight Bond so much. Before Q went into this relationship with Bond, Q never thought of Bond as a romantic. In actual fact, Bond was probably the most hopeless romantic Q’d ever known._ _

__The schedule was tight, and however reluctant they might be, duty called. And with a final kiss, Bond let go. Q could visually see when Bond transformed into Double-Oh Seven._ _

__Two weeks into the mission, they lost all contact with Bond. The last communication wasn’t in the least bit optimistic. Bond was held up by the chaos of the people who were trying to flee their home for safe zones when the communication ended abruptly. No matter what Q did, Six never managed to re-establish the connection. Q almost had a breakdown then, faced with the computers he himself built rioting against him as well as the very real possibility that he just had his last conversation with his lover, who might not even be alive right now, if he’s at all honest with himself._ _

__After that, all communication was down one by one, rendering MI6 effectively blind. Not long after that, the full evacuation order came. Q, being a stubborn and difficult git whenever he wants to be, refused to leave. On the ground that the agents that were still out there, and _yes M that included Bond_ , might make contact with headquarter. It wouldn't do to hang them out to dry now would it._ _

__M was not in the least bit pleased. Several very vocal rows were had, lots of pulling ranks and threats were involved, yet Q stood his ground. Eve also tried to talk some sense into him, but Q’s glare, for once, shut her up. Eventually a deal was made._ _

__The deal goes like this: Q will stay for one more month, then he will join the rest of them at the locked-down safe zone. They will send a helicopter (“I don’t care if you can make the trip on your own, you’re the quartermaster of MI6 for god’s sake, we can spare a helicopter for you”) to pick him up. And that is as far as M was willing to concede._ _

__Q resents the soft tone in which M talked to him at the end of their argument, resents the pity in M’s eyes. He talked, and behaved, like Bond was already dead. Q refuses to believe that. Until he sees proof of Bond’s death, he will always hold out the hope that Bond is still somewhere out there, living and breathing. In all honesty, Q had no idea if Bond finished the job, or if Bond himself ever made it to the safe zones, but if Bond’s past has taught him anything, it was never ever to give up hope on him, and Q will do exactly that—Bond at least deserves that much._ _

__It’s not that Q thinks he couldn't live on without Bond, it really isn’t. Yes, it’s true that he’s more than a little bit in love with Bond, but it’s just idiotic to literally die for love—bit overdramatic for this century, and certainly unpractical for MI6 employees. No, it’s not about that. It’s more the thought of Bond, out there, alone, trying to reach the headquarter and all he receives is silence, no idea if that means everyone’s dead or everyone’s already left and his name has become one of the many forgotten names in MI6’s history. Both are not desirable outcomes. Q wouldn't do that to Bond, and, by proxy, any other agents that are still alive and kicking and trying to find a way home. (Only home is not as it was, and home is not safe anymore.)_ _

__So now Q is the only one left in MI6, and possibly London. He doesn’t even have the comfort of his cats—Q entrusted them to Eve when they left, he couldn't bear to confine them into the small barricaded space that Q has developed a mild claustrophobia for._ _

__Thankfully, Q’s computers—now on emergency power supply—are still able to pick up signals within the UK, and he receives daily communication with Eve—the only connection with the outside world he has these days. The communication is, on official report, strictly to report the status quo of both MI6 headquarter and bring Q up-to-date of the scientific breakthrough they’re making in safe zones around the world (“It’s looking quite good, considering. It might not even take us that long to go back to proper civilisation.”). Off the record though, it is more like a normal conversation they would have had all of this never happened—Eve complains about the rationed food, Q claims that he’ll never in his life eat any pot-noodles after this and mundane things like that. Q is sure this is Eve’s attempt at keeping him sane._ _

__They don’t talk about Bond._ _

____

***

It’s been three weeks. 22 days, in fact.

No communication attempts except the ones from Eve.

Q hates this part. Waiting, not knowing. That about sums up his relationship, both professional and personal, with Bond. Well, he will wait this last time. Only he hopes this time Bond can be quicker, because he’s running out of time.

The waiting is made worse by the fact that Q doesn’t really have anything else to do. All he can do is waiting, and remembering. 

Though they hardly had any time together, they’d made lots of fond memories for themselves. Q recalls the grand gestures—a surprise trip to Venice of all place, the times when Bond was unafraid to show his vulnerable side to him; the small thing too—how the fridge was always stocked on homemade cat treats and homemade meals for Q just to remind him to feed himself, how Bond started take more care with his Q-branch issued equipment, how he endured through Q’s enthusiastic—completely incomprehensible to Bond—rantings about techs with an amused air…The list goes on and on, and usually by the time a day’s thinking is done, Q has fallen in love with Bond all over again. This can’t be healthy for Q’s mental health, but Q can’t help it anyway.

Today doesn’t look to be different with any other day. It’s all too quiet, and Q, despite himself, starts to despair just a little.

There’s some static sound from the comms. Q expects it to be Eve’s call. It’s a bit strange that Eve would try to talk to him this late into the day (the computer says it’s 20:06, but after nearly a month of not taking one step outside, time has become a distant, abstract concept, merely another number).

Q waits for Eve’s chirpy voice to fill the room. What he doesn't expect is the “Hello, anyone there?” in a tired voice that he is so achingly familiar with. A voice he thought he’d never hear again.

He hopes he’s not finally gone mad and is hallucinating. Because that would just be cruel.

Q moves to grab the receiver immediately, almost tripping over himself in the process. Fearful that the tenuous connection between him and Bond would be lost if he’s late to respond for even one mini second. 

“Bond?” His voice is rough from disuse. And even to himself he sounds dangerously close to a hopeful puppy, but who’s there to blame him anyway.

“Q? Oh thank god you’re all right.” The relief in Bond voice echoes Q’s own. “Where are you?”

“Headquarter. _Where the hell have you been?_ ” Q almost laughs out lout hysterically. All the tension that has been building up in his body is gone, replaced with an overwhelming sense of relief and elation.

“Trying to go home. To you.” Q’s heart warms a bit more at this, if possible. “Stay exactly where you’re, I’m coming to you.”

Bond doesn't drop the communication though. Q’s grateful for this consideration. Though perhaps at this moment both of them need this link to reaffirm themselves of the other’s presence. Bond is running. Then he stops.

He stops because he’s finally reached Q-branch. Both of them stand there, frozen, afraid to move, as if a single movement would break the moment and it all turns out to be an illusion. For a while, they just stand there facing each other, taking in and re-familiarising the sight of each other. It is Bond, who’s always been the brave one, that takes the first step.

“Sorry I’m late.” He walks towards Q. When he’s close enough, he lifts his hand to reach Q’s face. Q doesn't know he’s crying until he sees Bond’s hand come away wet. Surprisingly, he finds himself not minding in the least bit of Bond seeing him this weak and emotional.

Q promptly pulls Bond into a hug. “You’re so going to pay for letting me wait for this long.” Q tries to sound cross, he sounds nowhere near cross. He stays in the same position for a while, feeling, listening to Bond’s strong heartbeats, and also secretly wiping his tears on Bond’s shirt. He adds, voice muffled in Bond’s chest, “I knew you’d come back.” This is a lie. Q has never been sure. Bond knows this, and his heart breaks just a bit for being responsible for having made Q suffer.

Bond pulls back, expression serious. He wants to make sure Q knows he’s absolutely serious when he tells Q that he will always come back to him, apocalypse or not. 

“I made a promise and I meant to keep it.” 

Then Bond reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket, and with a grin, proudly presents Q with the Walther and radio, appearing to still be in working order. “I did promise you to bring the equipment back in one piece.”

Q laughs at this. Puts them away before holding onto Bond again. Both of them know that Bond’s not talking about the equipment. Q understands.

“Will wonders never cease.”

Bond buries his nose in Q’s hair, his left hand playing with Q’s curls while his right one drawing patterns on Q’s back, a gesture to comfort not only Q but also himself. Q’s left his hair a bit longer than usual, not that Bond minds.

“I even brought back the Aston Martin. It’s a bit battered, and filled with inferior petrol, but still functional.”

“ _Inferior petrol?_ Now double-oh seven, that just wouldn't do. Have I not told you about the proper care of a sports car?” Q’s feigned horror is so adorable that Bond wants to kiss him. He does exactly that.

“Well, it appears that a re-education is in order.” Another kiss, more heated now. Bond’s hands are now reaching under Q’s shirt. Q likes where this is going.

Just as well that they have Q-branch all to themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> The muse always comes to you whenever the least convenient. I’ve got a final tomorrow but I just have to finish this first. (My, 3 fics in one month, I’m on fire.)
> 
> English not first language, sorry for any glaring mistakes. Also, the pandemic is not in the least scientific so don’t look too hard into that.
> 
> Hope you liked the story.


End file.
